Chyld
Conception

Finding a lost jewel or simply rediscovering a forgotten one always brings about the same result: the enthusiasm of reclaiming something incredibly precious, to once again expose it to the world’s admiration. The archaeologist and art critic can afford to rewrite history; a musicologist, too, can return nearly forgotten pages to glory (just think of what happened in the 1920s with Vivaldi's work, which until then was little more than a faint memory). However, rock is a whole different universe, and as pleasant as it may be to find a dark gem that once went unnoticed, there remains the awareness that such a discovery will serve little purpose: it is unlikely that a well-distributed record company will bother to reissue it, and in general, it will continue to be ignored, until it falls back into the oblivion from which one hoped to save it.

The Americans Chyld, who recorded their first and only album in 1988, do not escape this curse, and it is a real shame because "Conception" is an extraordinary work, which at times is not a mistake to define as a masterpiece due to the beauty of the melodies, the high compositional quality, and the band’s distinct originality. Led by the young guitarist/singer John Joseph, a sort of prodigy already noticed by Mike Varney (mentor of all the shredders of the '80s), after the first demos in the vein of the most straightforward hair metal, the group indeed veers into unexpected musical territories, as if Motley Crue or Def Leppard had undergone a substantial progressive twist, incorporating influences ranging from Led Zeppelin to R.E.M., from Rush to U2, all within a context of great coherence, and foreshadowing the sounds of grunge bands yet to come (especially the early Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains).

"Conception" reveals its full beauty from the very first track, "Traveler", a supersonic boogie bordering on southern rock with a nod to the Zeppelins, which the band, however, continuously reshapes with tempo changes as unexpected as they are successful. The tracks then introduce a brilliant progressive hard rock that, however, lacks anything symphonic or grandiose, but reflects precisely the complex and original use of the basic elements of classic blues rock coupled with an extremely modern sensibility. This is what happens in "What You Came For", a concentration of faint stoner-Sabbathian memories and delicate riffs, with the guitar minimally distorted and typically west-coast vocal harmonies. On the same road is "Marion (The Walker)" with its oriental riffs, beautiful solos, and verses already projected towards the nineties sound.

Seventies atmospheres are retrieved with great taste, and the following tracks confirm the good premises. If "Tomorrow" (which begins like a mock live) is the track closest to '80s class metal, "The Tree Song" would not be out of place in Led Zeppelin's "Physical Graffiti", starting with the riff presented at the opening by the acoustic guitar, with the lively and energetic rhythm on which John Joseph's delicate vocal style is laid (although at times a bit raw).

It is at this point that the album finds its climax in two tracks that would have deserved to make the history of late eighties metal. Following an introduction worthy of Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here", "November" begins as an acoustic track; the guitar arpeggios give it an almost Indian and extraordinarily intimate atmosphere. Suddenly, the song undergoes an acceleration that can leave one amazed, simultaneously recalling the very early U2, Led Zeppelin, and Rush (in truth, the track would not be out of place in this latter band's "Snake and Arrows"), up to the almost unexpected finale, wisely left in suspense.

"Far Away (From Yesterday)", the second episode of this fantastic diptych, is a track particularly close to Rush but revisited in a bucolic and melancholic version, as if the Canadian band had moved to the same American suburb depicted in films like "Gummo" or "Mean Creek". Riffs that are at times decisive, at others very delicate, precise guitar embroideries, and particularly effective melodies merge in an increasingly intense crescendo of a decidedly progressive mold, which is all the more surprising considering that the track does not undergo substantial tempo changes.

"Conception", the titular track, ends the collection in the vein of modern, dynamic heavy metal, with a note this time distinctly unsettling, almost sinister. As a rule, such grace should correspond at least to the status of "cult band". Instead, under the hands of the New Renaissance label (already at the time famous mainly for the general mediocrity of its musical offerings), the Chyld became complete nobodies, poorly distributed, poorly promoted, and eventually swept away by the label's failure, the year following the album's release. Today, there is nothing left but to search and search until one finds a way to listen to this handful of excellent tracks (it took the writer twenty years). Perhaps the web will (finally) change something?